No One
by musicnotes093
Summary: The descent to madness was gradual and steady until it was complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** _"_ _No One"_

 **Rating:** T

 **Genre:** suspense, drama

 **Summary:** The descent to madness was gradual and steady until it was complete.

 **Notes:** The main character had been left out on purpose to keep some mystery in it. It'd be an easy guess as to who it is, though. :) This is inspired by many, many things, mainly by a moment in the Chronicles and listening to Taylor John Williams' version of Tears for Fears' _Mad World._ (It's an excellent song, by the way. It's very haunting. Very fitting, too.)

There will be a pairing here that many might not like very much, so just be warned. It's not very new, though.

With all those said, hope you enjoy.

* * *

The sound of children's and their parents' laughter filled the wide open park. Balloons of different colors increased the lively summer scenery, the airborne items bobbing up and down as their owners strolled happily down the winding sidewalks. There were also numerous people playing in the field, some with their friends, others with their pets. Still others with their kids. It was peace at best.

He watched with a small smile. Contrary to what others believed, he did enjoy witnessing moments of tranquility where nothing seemed wrong with the world. That was why he picked his island home, after all. From that vantage point, everything appeared all right.

Someone took the empty seat beside him. He didn't bother to look to see who it was; he already knew.

"It's mighty generous of the city to let people have free balloons today, don't you think?" the woman said.

"Yeah. It is," he replied.

"You didn't happen to put something in those, did you?" she asked, leering predatorily.

"No. I think children deserve to get things that make them happy, things that actually don't cost for once." His smile became strained. "Did you put anything in it?"

"No. No, I didn't," she said, the malice gone.

The warmth in his expression came back. "Good. I don't like it when others ruin things for me."

She said nothing.

For a moment, they watched as the late morning continued to unfold. The clouds above shifted peacefully along, floating westward as if carried by a gentle, sluggish current. A breeze blew along with it, cooling the green grounds. From a distance, an ambulance siren wailed—only adding to the beautiful noise of the city.

"Do you ever miss it?" the woman asked. "Being so ignorant and happy like they are? I heard it was nice."

He chuckled when he saw a man chase his dog to get the Frisbee back. "I would've, if things were actually as good as this before," he replied.

"So you're happier now."

"When you don't depend your happiness on other people, it makes a whole lot of difference," he said simply. He leaned back. "Did you come for revenge?"

Suddenly, her mood changed.

He knew she was tempted to lie. He looked at her pointedly, warningly, though still with a smile.

"I came to cause chaos," she said, a dark shadow hovering over her eyes.

He slowly released a breath and turned his attention back ahead. "I don't know if they told you, but I do not help with plans of 'world domination.'"

"Why not?"

"It's stupid, childish," he said. "Once you've taken control over everything, then what? Can you handle the responsibility that comes with it?"

She looked away.

"That wasn't what you really want to do, though, is it?" he said. "So tell me, why did you seek me out?"

She took a moment to gather her thoughts. Then, "They took my family, my husband and my son. They are the only ones that I have, and they took them from me."

"You want them back."

"And I want to teach them all a lesson about stealing what does not belong to them," she said. "I heard you and I have mutual enemies in these people."

The smile on his lips stretched farther. "You hear many inaccurate things, Necrosis."

Though unsure whether it was a yes or a no, she didn't push for an answer. She heard doing so would not be in her best interest, and she believed it was one of the very few things that they were actually right about. So she said instead, "If revenge had been my main reason, would you have turned me away?"

"I'm not in the business of getting even. Like seeking control over the world for the wrong reason, I believe that that is a petty reason, too."

"So you do not believe in justice."

"I believe in justice." He glanced at her smilingly. "Just not in how irrational people define it."

"There are stories about you, you know," she said later. "They say you used to be on their side."

"Whose side?"

"The side of the heroes. You used to be one of them."

"Do you believe that?"

"I was told I hear many inaccurate things."

He chuckled. "The fine line between a hero and a villain is often tricky," he said. "Heroes are not always heroes, and villains are not always villains. I've learned that a long time ago."

"Is that why you do this? You've become the evil that they secretly are?"

Another breeze blew through the park, and the sun shone brighter with it. As the rays hit his back, warming his skin comfortably, he was reminded of the person he used to be. _How long had it been since I last saw him?_ "No," he replied to her as the memories of many years ago came to him. "I've become the evil I tried to protected them from."

 **. . .**

It began from another decision he made for them.

There was not much time to think, just to do. He had already stared at the vial for a long while, regarding it like it was the deadliest thing to ever exist on earth. He didn't know it then, but it was. It was going to kill him a few months down the line. However, at that moment, all he could think about were the consequences of not taking what was in it.

He knew he shouldn't have kept the knowledge of this from the rest of his family. He should've told them. They had worked hard to destroy all vials of the liquid bionics when they were on that planet, and they thought they had succeeded.

It was true. Every last drop of those were gone—except for the failsafe ones that the mad scientist stored here on Earth.

He wouldn't have known about it if Gao hadn't have argued with Perry. He revealed some information even after she had already walked out on him. The scientist thought he was unconscious and so couldn't hear him. That was why he babbled. He babbled and ranted and screamed, and within the caustic, erratic words was the revelation of the existence of the remaining vials and their location.

There were two on their home planet, one more potent than the other. Shortly after they came back, he went to where the scientist hid it in then dug it up to erase it from existence. He poured the one that was the most concentrated of the failsafe to the ground first. He was set to do the same with the other, but instinct held him back. Something told him that it might be of use one day, when an emergency arose and everything was hopeless. He didn't want to listen at first, because he knew that going against his initial intention would mean betrayal of his family's trust.

But, his instincts won out. He pocketed it instead then left.

Now, with the crisis facing them, he held onto the belief that it had been the best move. All the students had vanished, and that nefarious roboticist had just revealed that it was her handiwork. If they had to face those androids of hers again, they would be outnumbered. They almost lost the last time.

He shouldn't take the liquid in, but he had to even out the odds. He needed more abilities if he was to be of help.

So, he grabbed a syringe from the med bay and drew out everything from the vial. He took a deep breath, and with his heart pumping wildly in his chest, he inserted the needle on his arm and flushed it in.

It took all his might not to scream.

Once it was over, he got rid of the evidence, and then suited up though he was in pain.

Daniel and the students needed their help. Surely this decision would pay off in the end.

 **. . .**

It didn't work. Evidently not, because while everyone squirmed from the agonizing pain of having their bionic chips burn holes in their necks, he was still fine.

But everything turned out well anyways. He saved them—again—with the 'measly' abilities they made fun of. The students and his family turned out fine, Giselle ended up accidentally ending her own life, and Marcus had been put away for good.

The victory had been sweet—and also short-lived.

 **. . .**

"I'm glad you're all here, because there's something we've been meaning to tell you: I'm pregnant."

 _You know that means she's replaced you, right?_

The voice spoke so suddenly that it caught him by surprise. His reaction, however, was obscured by the congratulatory cheers that broke out around him. His stepsiblings, his step-cousin, and even his step-uncle circled his mother, exchanging jokes and words of excitement for the new child that would soon arrive in their home.

 _Typical. I guess the only obsolete thing here after all is you._

He schooled his features so it wouldn't show alarm. He glanced around to see if someone had somehow spoken to him mentally.

None. Not even Chase.

His mother mistook his silence and lack of eye contact as unhappiness. The bright grin on her face slowly slipped as she gazed at him. "Sweetheart?" she called to him. "Is that not good news for you?"

They were all looking at him, and he knew what they expected. So, he forced a smile. (He had gotten so good at faking it.) "Of course it is, Mom," he said. "Congratulations."

 _She needed saving, too, didn't she? Because it would've been embarrassing if her own child wasn't happy for her,_ the voice said after he took his mother in his embrace. _Tell me: how much does it hurt when you lie?_

He held onto his mother because he was scared.

She held onto him because she was relieved by the false thought that he was happy.

He could feel that truth in her embrace, and it hurt a lot.

 **. . .**

The voice kept speaking to him the following months, and it terrified him. It spoke to him when his stepsister and stepbrother left, when his father reassigned his oldest stepbrother to supervise one of the headquarters. When his mother's pregnancy began showing. The voice got louder and clearer, and it wouldn't stop.

He told his stepfather about it. His mother, too. He didn't tell them everything that the voice told him, especially the claims that were true, but he told them enough to convince them he needed help.

His stepfather laughed, said everyone hears voices in their head. His mother said that he must be overworked. Maybe he needed a vacation or something. She didn't say it, but she suspected that the impending arrival of his little sister had made him slightly jealous.

The rest of his family—they laughed and didn't believe him, too. That was why the voice only gained more power over him.

It showed him things, ones that weren't real. He also heard voices, many, many others, though these ones didn't speak to him. He found it harder and harder to concentrate. His waking hours became nightmarish on some days, and frequently sleep took his mind to maze-like thoughts, ones he rarely got out from.

He suffered, but they didn't notice. Why would they? With a baby on the way, they concentrated on preparation, preparation, preparation. The hospital bag and the nursery room gradually came together while his confidence and sanity only fell apart.

Eventually, the baby came.

It was the nightmare the voice said it would be. She cried and screamed constantly, day and night. She clung to their mother and demanded her attention every minute like there would be no tomorrow. It wasn't surprising; she _was_ a newborn.

But he couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand her wailing and the arguments that sometimes ensued between her parents because they were tired and frustrated.

"Can someone get her to _shut up?_ " he erupted one afternoon after the child had been crying for half an hour straight.

His mother and stepfather stared at him, shocked. "Leo," his mother said, hurt.

 _The first time in a long time anyone here remembered your name._

They appeared offended, even scared. He didn't care. He needed some sleep, and no one else would bother to make him feel comfortable.

As had always been, he had to work for what he wanted on his own.

A chilling calm washed over him as he caught sight of his sister. She was so tiny and cute. He had always wondered what it would be like to hold her. Would she like him? She cried when her uncle and Bree and Chase held her. Would she cry if it was him? Would she be comfortable enough to fall asleep in his arms?

He noticed his stepfather made a move from his periphery. It was almost microscopic, his stepfather's action, but he saw it. The patriarch had noticed the way he stared at his child, and he had shifted to stand in between the mother and daughter and him.

A protective move. There was no mistake about it.

 _He had never done that for you, has he?_

 _He had. Once._

 _Just once?_

He turned around then retreated to his room. _Yeah,_ he answered the voice. _Just once._

 **. . .**

He had seen the pamphlets around the house, and his mother even talked to him about it a few times, but he never thought they would carry it out.

His mother and stepfather told him that the family just wanted to talk to him. The voice was gone now, so he agreed, because he wanted to tell them that he felt so much better. He wanted to tell them that they didn't have to worry anymore, and _sorry for everything I've done these past few months._

They were all sitting together one moment then the next – white ropes bound him from his arms to his torso.

Like a straightjacket.

"What – what's this?" he demanded, struggling against it.

"Honey, baby, I'm really sorry we have to do this," his mother told him tearfully.

Two men came in through the front door, and they headed towards him. It didn't take long for him to know what they were for.

He stared at his family in disbelief, in shock, in dismay. He pulled away violently when one of the men tried to tug on him. "Get away from me!" he told him. "Mom! What—Why are you…"

"You need help," his stepfather told him resolutely, somehow sympathetically. He noticed then that his little sister was nowhere in sight. "We found you a great place to stay for the meantime—"

"Oh, _now_ you're gonna 'help' me?"

"—and these good men will take you there."

"I do not need help, I am _fine."_

"Leo, just a few months ago you told us you were hearing voices," his stepfather said.

"That was a few months ago! Back up!" he said, barking the last two words towards the men from the facility. "I'm okay now!"

"It's all right to get help, Leo," Chase assured him. "There's nothing to be ashamed about."

"You've got me tied up in front of all of you and people I do not know. Talk to me about not being ashamed when you're in my shoes, _Chase_ ," he countered bitingly.

There was shame in the genius' eyes, but no mercy. No compassion could be found in anyone's eyes, and there was certainly no understanding.

"That's exactly why you need some time away," his stepfather said. "You have outbursts like this. We're always walking on eggshells when around you, and it's becoming dangerous."

"I've never hurt anyone."

"Yet. What if one day you snap, and you do end up hurting someone?"

"Someone like who, Kira?" he said. "You think I don't notice?"

They said nothing. "A lot of things had happened these past few months, and you're just overworked," his stepfather excused. He forced a smile on his face. "You just need a vacation, somewhere peaceful, where you can get the help you need," he said before nodding at the strangers.

Upon command, the two men grabbed him by the arm. Instinctively, he tried to use the strength given to him – but it was gone. His arm felt unusually normal again.

He glanced at his step-uncle.

The inventor looked away.

He helped the others, too, by taking away his only chance of escape. _He was supposed to be on my side._

"Let me go!" he screamed as the strangers dragged him away. He was enraged, but he was terrified and heartbroken above all. "Mom! Please don't let them do this! Mom!"

Through the scuffle, he only got a glimpse of her. She sobbed, hunched over as tears racked her whole body. His stepsister comforted her by warmly caressing her shoulder. Meanwhile, her husband hugged her.

None of them came to help. They really didn't believe him.

Once he was situated inside the van, the strangers assured him that everything would be fine. _It's not gonna be as bad as you think. You'll see._ Yet, all he could _see_ was the steel partition that separated them from him.

As the vehicle rolled away, he fought against his restraints and the disillusionment from being betrayed by those whom he loved.

 **. . .**

Many days were spent clawing his way out of that horrible room, but he never succeeded. His doctor said he was too angry to stay in a regular room like the other patients, and his temper rendered him too unsafe. So the psychiatrist frequently ordered that he be placed in isolation.

The place was made of cushion, wall to wall to wall to wall, ceiling and floor. It was constructed that way so the patients put in there wouldn't hurt themselves. In the beginning, they trusted him enough to let him stay with his hands free. But after fits of rage seized him, after he ripped some of the structure apart by meager strength, staining it with blood from his burned out fingers, they started binding his hands. They would sedate him, too.

One night, after spending most of his strength from trying to get out, he was left staring at the ceiling. Dried tears stained his cheeks while he gazed at absolute nothingness.

He realized then how tired he was, not just because of what he had done but also of trying. He wanted to see his family. He wanted to see all of them. Even simply hearing their voices would be enough, but the hospital wouldn't let him. They said it would be a trigger. It would only deconstruct the months-worth of work that had gone into resolving his issues.

Had it been months? How long had he been there? Day in and day out, things, places, people, and words had been the same. It felt as if he had lived the same day over and over again. The same week, at best.

No one had visited him, and he asked his doctor why that was so. The doctor said he suggested that none of them come while he was there so the process would go faster. _But,_ he also said, _even if they're not here, they still love you._

Love? Were strangely-named medicines and captivity in nearly soundless rooms love?

A chilling calm washed over him, similar to the one he felt when he looked upon his little sister some time ago. This wave, however, was greater, in that it swallowed him whole and stole him indefinitely to oblivion.

He allowed it to take him. It inundated him to the point that it sunk the anger, the grudges, and the trespasses. It drowned out all the feelings until they were there no more.

Along with the deaths of these was the death of the teenager who once had somewhere to call home.

He closed his eyes and took his last breath before darkness came.


	2. Chapter 2

It all made sense one night.

He woke up from his sleep due to a pricking sensation in his hands. His room was aglow with a faint bluish light when he opened his eyes. Looking down, he saw energy playing within the palms and fingers of his hands.

The voice – it had been a form of temporary psychosis induced by a change in him, a change that came slowly but steadily. He had been coughing up metallic granules these past two weeks, too. His doctor thought he was just getting sick and had even scheduled an MRI out of concern. Now, it was clear to him why.

The new had broken down the old in preparation of its takeover. The liquid bionics – it had transformed everything within him. In the process, it revealed many things he wouldn't have known otherwise.

The rush of something new and vibrant thrilled him. It restored his confidence, and it gave him a sense of joy and peace.

The energy blinked out upon his mental cue, retreating back to its depths where it continued to build with the rest of the inexplicable, wondrous new things.

He went back to sleep that night and had the best rest he had ever had in a long time.

 **. . .**

 _Knock, knock._ Then, "Leo? They said you wanted to see me?"

He looked up from his book. Unlike the other residents at that time of the day, he was dressed in his favorite jeans, shirt, and hoodie. Beside him was his backpack, filled with the very few belongings he had been given throughout his stay.

From the look on the doctor's eyes, he could tell these inconsistencies didn't go unnoticed.

"I did, Dr. Winslett. Do you mind sitting with me for a few seconds?" he said, smiling.

"Sure," said the kind doctor. He pulled out a swivel chair then sat down. "How are you feeling tonight?"

"Feeling great, actually. I've been getting a lot of sleep." He grinned as he joked, "You haven't been slipping any more of that good stuff in my dinner, have you?"

The doctor smiled. "No. You've been doing well on your own," he said. Looking him over, he commented, "I guess that wretched coughing finally stopped, huh?"

"Oh, it has. Thankfully it has. It had been keeping me up."

The doctor nodded. Finally, he said, "You're dressed really nicely. Is something special happening?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it," he said sincerely. "I know I told you this the last time we had our session, but I think I've let go of everything I have to let go."

"Yes, it seems like you have."

"I appreciate your patience. You worked with me even when I was going completely nuts."

"Well, I wouldn't say you were going completely nuts. You were just frustrated. Frustration can drive us into doing things we normally wouldn't."

"Dr. Winslett?"

"Yes?"

"Do you also believe that it was because I was jealous of Kira?"

The doctor took a deep breath. "No," he said honestly. "I actually believe that you love your little sister."

He smiled at that. "Can I ask you to be honest one more time? There was no attempt for a visitation, was there?"

The pleasant expression on the doctor's face evaporated. "Mrs. Davenport came three times when you first got here, but you were in the isolation room," he admitted. "Your oldest stepbrother came as many times, but he said he didn't want you to know he was here. He said he just wanted to check on you, to make sure you were okay. Those clothes that you have on, he brought those for you. He said he wanted you to have something new."

He smiled. "Well, I'll be sure to thank him," he said.

"So, was that all of you'd like to talk to me about?" asked the kind doctor.

He glanced at the clock. 8:56 PM. "I'm sorry, Dr. Winslett," he said. "I didn't realize I was keeping you here too long. Your family's probably waiting for you at home."

"It's all right. I did say I'm here to talk when you need me. Before 9 PM."

He laughed with him.

"Why don't I get Cecil to help you put your things back in your cabinet, hm? It's almost bedtime. I'm sure she'd assist you," the doctor said, getting up.

"Actually, I have a different request," he told the older physician. "I consider you an ally, Dr. Winslett. I don't want you to get caught into what will happen next. I don't want you to get in trouble for it either."

"What are you talking about?"

He hopped to his feet. "Remember everything that you will see, all the details," he said. "They won't understand, but they will have an idea."

"They? Who's 'they?'"

"They'll come soon enough. Probably an hour or so," he said. "I'm sorry. I guess you'll have to stay here longer than I thought. Please tell your wife and baby girl that I apologize when you get back home. You have my promise that the three of you will be safe."

An unsettling feeling descended upon the doctor then. He attempted to bolt for the door to call for help but stopped when his feet became cemented to the floor.

He didn't like seeing the older physician scared. There was really no need to be; he had every intention to keep his promise. He did understand why he would be alarmed, though. He was caught off-guard, after all.

Slipping on the straps of his backpack, he picked up his book. "Electromagnetism, doc. Only this one you can use on people," he said. He headed towards the door, but not without stopping to face the panicked doctor first. He smiled to allay his worries. "I just don't want any more people to get caught in it. You understand, right?"

The doctor only gazed at him fearfully.

"It will deactivate in a bit, I promise," he assured him. "Thank you again for everything. Have a good evening."

Without looking back, he continued on his way out of the hospital. An alert went off a few minutes later, but by then he was already outside. A pair of campus guards attempted to run after him, wielding Tasers while yelling for him to stop. He kept going.

When the supercharged needles whipped through the air, he spun around and caught them by hand. He looked at the guards, warning them to let go. They didn't do so. When the electricity reversed in direction, it hit them.

They were curled up on the ground as he continued on his way. The voltage wasn't lethal. It wasn't even very harmful, just enough to stun them until he was way out of their reach.

He breathed in a lungful of air while he walked. It had been a while since he was out there. He had forgotten how different city air smelled and even tasted like. It definitely wasn't as filtered as the one inside the facility. It was more toxic, he was sure, but at least it had character.

He could detect numerous things in it: faded black smoke from exhausts of poorly-oiled engines, contaminated oxygen from the trees being overworked by an industrial environment, a very vague aroma of roasted chicken and freshly chopped peaches wafting from a health-conscious woman's home. They were all both repulsive and captivating.

Maybe he would stay somewhere out here tonight, where he could be in the middle of everything that was thriving and everything that was wilting away.

 **. . .**

Stealing was wrong, and he knew that. Nonetheless, he had to resort to it. He had to eat. It was a necessity that required actions he wasn't happy about. He could make excuses, say his relapse into psychosis within the two weeks following his exit from the hospital was to blame, but he wouldn't. That would just make him a liar, and the refusal to take responsibility would evidence spinelessness.

The truth was that many times, he did know what he was doing. When he geoleapt to restaurants' kitchens at night after they close, when he snuck into a high school pretending to be a student to get lunch, when he phased through storages in groceries to stock up on what he needed the next morning. He was aware on all of those instances.

But he needed to survive. He had every intention of repaying those he owed someday, but at the moment he could only keep tabs. Last he heard, a manhunt had been issued in order to locate him.

Manhunt. It still sounded as if he was a wild animal that needed to be locked up in a cage.

He had no desire to run away. He _wasn't_ running away. He had begun to comprehend the scope of what he could do, and he was really only avoiding them because he didn't want to see their faces. His psychiatrist had taught him the importance of identifying and staying away from triggers. He didn't think it was a good idea to face several when he was in the worst mental state possible.

Gao was wrong. The unstable formula had been the best. Really, once he discovered how to steady his system, he would be in tiptop shape. He could begin living a new life.

 _Steady. System._ Maybe he did know how—and where—to do that.

 **. . .**

A deafening alarm wailed all over the building, and it woke him up. He sighed. He knew he shouldn't've spent so much time shaving. Maybe he wouldn't have taken so long if the razor had been sharper and easier to access.

He stepped out of the capsule, feeling so much better. Those fourteen hours of sleep wasn't something to frown upon. It was just what he needed. He was kind of surprised that he had that long, actually, but he guessed security wouldn't notice him so soon anyways. How would they, when the CEO of the company hadn't allowed them to see what was truly in that floor?

The schematics of the advanced capsules in there had been stored in his head, and it made parting from the one he borrowed much easier. He would just get the materials to make one for himself later, after completing a job or two. He had been eyeing a beautiful location where he could build his own home, someplace no one ever knew existed. Maybe he'd install it there and sleep for days on end without anyone interrupting him.

A group of guards awaited him as he left the room. Like the campus police, they wielded weapons, too. _Hands up,_ one of them commanded. _We've apprehended the suspect,_ another reported.

Apprehended. Shouldn't they use it _only_ when he's already in cuffs and under their mercy?

He smiled. He kept walking.

 _Stop!_ they demanded.

 _We will shoot!_ they warned.

 _No,_ he thought. _No, you're not._

The walls on each side pulled each of the men upwards like powerful magnets attracting metals. They writhed and wriggled from its grasp, but to no avail. It would not let them go.

More men came, but the selective invisible magnetic field he had activated yanked them out of his way. Walking through the mural of people, he was reminded of the glow in the dark stars that children stick on their bedroom walls, only these ones were moving and quite agitated. It wasn't very pleasing to look at, but at least these presented no trouble.

He stopped in his tracks when someone stepped in his way. Adam, dressed in that black mission suit that he was sure only _he_ wore now. The oldest Davenport child looked different. He was sporting a five o'clock shadow and looked every bit of his twenty-four years of life. He seemed bulkier, stronger. Then again, it may just be the dated suit he had on. From the looks of it, it had undergone several repairs just to fit him.

He probably did that in hopes of the team coming back together one day. Shame. Reports of the new team had been all over the news. From the looks of it, his little sister and little brother weren't coming back.

The twenty-four year-old caught sight of the men stuck on the walls and was appalled. "Leo. Please. Let them go," he asked.

"If I let them go, they will try to hurt me." He shook his head. "I don't want to be in that position."

"They won't hurt you."

"They won't. What I'm afraid of is what could happen if one of them decided that they will."

When he made a move towards the elevator, the older bionic shifted to block him. "Don't make me do this," Adam said.

"I can't make you do anything you do not want to do, Adam," he said.

For a long time, he only gazed at him, trying to figure out what had happened.

Suddenly, a security personnel ran in from behind the corner, ready to attack. Unfortunately for him, he was quicker. Firing a current of vibrational waves, the man flew backward, accidentally hitting the older bionic.

The chain reaction caused the twenty-four year-old to crash against the glass window. As it shattered, he flew out into the open air, but quick reflexes had him holding onto the narrow metallic ledge outside.

After assessing what had happened, he walked towards him, stepping over the unconscious man from security. Then, he squatted down. From that high up, the evening breeze was strong and disorienting. It was refreshing, though. It definitely counteracted the humid California weather that had been prevailing these past three days.

"Leo," Adam gasped, trying to fasten onto the ledge as much as possible. "Leo, help – help me."

He surveyed the twenty-four year-old's hands with interest. Blood, on curves between his index finger and thumb and some creases in between his fingers. He must've gotten hold of shards of glass in his panic before finally grasping the metallic ledge. His hands were steady, but they tremored slightly as he swayed along with the wind.

He stared at him in the eye. Fear. Uncertainty. Hopelessness. Pure adrenaline. He was reading those off from him.

He knew what lending them, any of them, a hand eventually led to. So, "No," he said. "You're all more than capable to save yourselves."

The twenty-four year-old's brows furrowed. "What…"

"How many times did you come visit again? Three times?"

"It's not—"

He patted his hands, and the act cemented the older bionic's hand on the ledge. "You have three minutes before it wears off. Don't worry; someone will be here by then." He smiled at the surveillance camera then waved. The founders of Davenport Industries were watching. "Thank you for checking on me and bringing me clothes. You're a good man, Adam Davenport," he told the twenty-four year-old.

After his magnified senses alerted him to an oncoming speedster, he rushed out of the building in a quickness that surpassed what they had on record. It was nowhere near the speed of light, but it sufficed to get him out of there.

Triggers. He no longer called his family that. They didn't have that power over him anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

One of the abilities that had proven very useful to him was his technopathy. Just one glance, and immediately schematics of gadgets and machineries would unfold in his mind, like blueprints floating four-dimensionally. Figuring out how to unlock, encrypt, fry, and reconstruct items brought to him had become a breeze. Bringing his designs to reality had been, too.

And just as well. After completing projects from two known entities, one for an underground group and one for a research and technology titan, requests had been pouring in. His docket of tasks had yet to empty out, and he loved it. He gained more and more notoriety, and that kept him supplied. Because of these, he had established his home on his chosen corner of the earth, equipped with everything he needed and wanted.

One could say that he lacked nothing materially.

Sure, there were nuisances with his line of work. Several people and groups had tried to run away from fulfilling their end of the bargain. They had threatened to hurt him, turn him in, and even harm those whom he loved just so he'd finish the job for free.

Deadbeats. They really had no idea what they were signing up for. They were the reasons why he had become picky with his clients.

Still, the bad ones didn't dampen his enjoyment of this new line of work. He had become a consultant of some kind, and it gave him an opportunity to know types of information that not many were privy to. It broadened his understanding of people and how things usually worked with and between them. That had actually become the basis on which his three basic rules had been set.

Do not accept revenge as a motive.

Do not be wasteful of lives.

Fire a warning shot if warranted.

These kept his hands as clean as possible and his sleep peaceful at night.

 **. . .**

Davenport Industries' 25th anniversary dinner was a black tie event. Board members, employees, company partners, and their families covered the vast ballroom in their flashy evening dresses and well-tailored tuxes. The centers of attention that night, though, were the founders and their families.

The company's CEO and Vice President appeared dashing and handsome in their suits and ties. Their sons were nothing short of eye-catching also, each a debonair in their tuxes. The matriarch and the daughters looked simply elegant and also commanded attention. No wonder everyone watched them and spoke favorably about them in secret.

However, their 'friends' had more pressing reasons to surround them that evening.

These past two years had been difficult for the family. Their acquaintances had heard about what happened to one of their children, and _Oh, it's so tragic, I'm so sorry you have to go through this—_ as if they knew the then-teenaged boy personally. As if they truly cared.

Really, they just wanted to be on a family member's good side; it didn't matter whose. The CEO's sons were the most eligible bachelors around, and parents who wanted to secure their own futures were willing to farm off their daughters for riches beyond their wildest imagination.

Love? That would come later. Just make sure never to mention pre-nups until after the wedding. Once you had the guarantee that you could wipe the family clean of everything they owned whenever you wished to, they would be begging you to love them.

Insincere, dishonest vultures circled the family, and they didn't even know it. He almost felt sorry he had to do this.

Almost.

The CEO stepped up to the podium after the emcee called him to the platform. He flashed a charming smile to the crowd softly clapping for him before starting off with his usual speech formalities.

He leaned back on his chair from his spot in the control room overhead, savoring the non-alcoholic piña colada a waitress kindly served him earlier. While he lounged, he noticed one of the board members sitting at a corner table down a whole glass of champagne before waving a waiter over for another glass. It was understandable. Everyone knew that once the boss was in command of the mic, it could take the whole night. It helped when they listen drunk.

"And so tonight, we celebrate twenty-five wonderful years of being united as we break barriers, push through challenges, and shatter expectations that had been set before us. We have worked hard to get where we are together, and we hope that for the following years to come we would continue to work as one," said the CEO almost half an hour later. "I hope that you will be there, twenty-five years in the future, with my wife and kids when we celebrate another milestone. I will work hard to make sure all of us here would be present there again. After all, you are a part of us, too."

Another round of applause erupted.

The CEO, pleased, beamed brighter. "With that in mind, I hope you enjoy this video presentation that our talented team put together to show how much it means to us as the founders of this company to have you as our family," he finished. Then, he glanced at the control room as a cue, having absolutely no idea who occupied it.

He sat up, dimmed the lights in the ballroom further, and then clicked on a button. He was only too happy to oblige.

Instead of the montage they expected, the first reel showed a dark screen. _"Oh—I'm sorry, but people get fired every day,"_ rang the audio. The voice of the company's boss was unmistakable. _"Here, watch. I just fired Bob Mackley. …Oops. Sent that to Bob Martin. Well, they're both dead weight anyways."_

A hushed gasp went off among the crowd like a bomb.

The CEO, stunned and embarrassed, glanced around to search for the team in charge of the montage. He found that they were as shocked and clueless as he was.

The next reel played, but again there was only darkness.

 _"_ _It's all right to get help, Leo. There's nothing to be ashamed about."_

 _"_ _You've got me tied up in front of all of you and people I do not know. Talk to me about not being ashamed when you're in my shoes,_ Chase _."_

 _He's here,_ he saw the speedster mouth to her brothers.

 _"_ _That's exactly why you need some time away. You have outbursts like this. We're always walking on eggshells when around you, and it's becoming dangerous."_

 _"_ _I've never hurt anyone."_

 _"_ _Yet. What if one day you snap, and you do end up hurting someone?"_

 _"_ _Someone like who, Kira? You think I don't notice?"_

 _"_ _A lot of things had happened these past few months, and you're just overworked. You just need a vacation, somewhere peaceful, where you can get the help you need."_

 _"…_ _Let me go! Mom! Please don't let them do this! Mom!"_

Teams, both from security and the CEO's own bionic trio, began to mobilize, but when the third clip blinked on screen, monochromatic but bright and vibrant, they stopped. _"This is from Astral Tech, you said?"_ the CEO, who was one of the only three people in the video, asked.

The scientist nodded. _"It's a revolutionary invention, sir. The guy that I know who works there brags about it all the time. He said it'll level out the competition. It might even bring us down."_

 _"_ _Who designed it?"_ asked the Vice President, the company's own once-rogue inventor.

The scientist shrugged. _"They said Lara Robinson herself commissioned this from a freelancer of some kind. She's heard of him from other people, so she got in contact with him,"_ he said. _"The company direly needs this for their relaunch. They're in terrible straits right now, and without this they'll go bust."_

 _"_ _The inventor freelancer knows she's showing this to us to consider a merger?"_

 _"_ _I doubt it, but she just wants to be able to prevent her employees from losing their jobs. She cares about them, and she's hoping this could be their lifesaver."_

 _"…_ _Okay. Take this to the development team and see how soon they can begin work on it."_

 _"_ _We can't save that many jobs, Donnie. We're gonna get dragged down with them."_

 _"_ _We also can't afford to give this back. This could sell big internationally. Plus, it'd be helpful for many people."_

 _"_ _So the merger is a go."_

After hesitating for a moment, the founder shook his head. _"No, but we'll tell them we're considering it. At least while we're working on this."_

 _"_ _What about the freelancer, sir? Should I ask her for his information so he knows someone else has his invention?"_

The CEO shook his head. _"No. He's already been paid, right?"_

 _"_ _What if he sues us for money?"_ asked the Vice President.

 _"_ _We'll lawyer up later. Right now, we focus on this. We need a prototype so we could unveil it on the night of the anniversary dinner as ours."_

The video stopped. The room was breathless.

Taking that cue, he clicked on another button.

The string that kept the celebratory banner rolled up snapped. The paper unraveled, but instead of the original message— _Davenport Industries: 25 Years of Excellence, Integrity, and Advancement_ —the crowd saw something completely different. It elicited terrified gasps and expressions of alarm. The company's CEO, who had been mortified by the video, appeared very disturbed when he saw the spray-painted message.

 _LIARS,_ it said in crimson.

He stood up, glanced at the unconscious control panel operator lying on the floor, and then turned down the lights in the booth to get a better view. He keenly watched the ballroom below as disorder and murmurings befell it. Suddenly, all whom had almost fallen asleep were fully awake, and the vultures circling around had become turned off by the sight of their targets.

The family, on the other hand, looked confused, and horrified.

He did really feel sorry for them.

In the midst of all of the commotion, the CEO turned his gaze to the booth as if asking why this had been done to him. Confusion turned to recognition and horror. Despite the prevalent darkness, he was able to make out who it was that stood there watching them all.

He stared back at the company's founder without flinching. _Compliments of Astral Tech, Mr. Davenport,_ he thought. Then, he turned off the lights in the booth completely, headed towards the door, and then picked up the bag filled with the materials he retrieved from the laboratories of Davenport Industries earlier. He wasn't one to judge against someone taking something that didn't belong to them. His employer, however, had strong feelings about it.

With everything he needed secured in his possession and a security team heading his way, he vanished in a burst of dark smoke.

 **. . .**

He was being followed.

It had been a few weeks since he first noticed the person's presence. It had neither concerned nor made him feel threatened. In fact, he was expecting it. The job he pulled the night of the anniversary dinner revived the manhunt for him. He didn't really care. He knew how to vanish when he needed to vanish, and he was much more familiar of how to travel through the 'trap doors' of this planet than they were. Matters like being caught by his pursuers didn't faze him.

Even now it didn't. Despite the shadow tailing him, his peace was intact. He was, however, curious.

Because he knew her personal reason for being there. Because he knew who sent her.

Because he knew both didn't match as they were supposed to.

That was why he thought it fair to give her an advice. They _were_ good acquaintances once upon a time, and, to a degree, he cared about her.

After luring her out to a café in uptown New York one night, he asked the waiter to deliver a message for her along with a cup of hot chocolate to warm her on that cold evening. _Don't you know that curiosity killed the cat, Miss Valentine?_ he wrote.

He left as she was reading it.

 **. . .**

Roman and Riker were two of the youngest marks he had ever had, but they were also the most typical. The information he gathered about them was so disinteresting. Superpowered young adults, brothers. Father 'wronged' in some way. Out to eliminate everybody. Revenge.

Why did it always have to be revenge? He supposed anger was one of the greatest motivators, but it also drove one to recklessness. He had seen it play over and over again both on TV and on real life. Do these people not learn?

He continued to ascend up the rooftop of the abandoned building, hands inside his pockets. It didn't seem very practical coming there in a new three-piece suit and a tie, but he was feeling the look tonight. Plus, he was set to make an appearance in front of a widely respected superhero team.

Yes, they may all be on the verge of getting beaten to a pulp, but he still wanted to look as nice as they were, hopefully even more.

He twisted the rusted knob then pushed the door open to the rooftop. Snow stormed in all around, covering the city in a thick, slushy blanket. The wind was cutting and unforgiving. It bounced off from building to building when it blew, causing a tornado-like effect all around.

This spectacle, however, was lost to the seven who had been up there for some time now. Screaming echoed from the rooftops as four of the city's very own Elite Force was held up by violent ropes of electricity. In Roman's grasp, they were all powerless. Riker, meanwhile, stood guard beside the superhero they had been after, the Calderian who was on her knees, bent over, after her energy was drained significantly.

He watched with crossed his arms, leaning on the wall. The show was getting interesting.

"Even if you defeat us, other heroes will rise," the team's appointed leader fiercely asserted to Roman. "Even if we die tonight, eventually you'll fall in the hands of another team."

The electrokinetic villain pretended to consider this seriously. "Well, I guess you're right about one thing: you all _will_ die tonight," he said.

The four screamed as he electrocuted them again.

He rolled his eyes at Roman's penchant for pointless actions. What a coward. If he wanted to get rid of them, he should've done it already.

It was then that Riker noticed him. He frowned and then barked, "Hey. Who are you? What are you doing here?"

He smiled when Roman, as well as the team of five, looked his way. "Oh, don't mind me," he told Roman. "I can wait until you've got everything out of your chest."

Roman lowered his hand, confident that the electricity he bound the rest of the team with would hold while he dealt with the intruder. He swiveled towards him and asked, "You don't know what you just got yourself into, do you?" He gathered a sphere of electricity within his palm then flung it towards him.

The shot only went through. It hit the opposite building instead, dying with a sizzle. He smirked when their eyes widened. He pulled out a white index card from his jacket pocket to consult it. "Let's see. Roman, Riker, last name not important. Some information that you'd probably rather stay between the three of us… Shapeshifters. Electrokinetic. Some other powers." He waved the card as he met Roman's eyes. "See? I did my homework. I do know what I'm getting myself into."

"Oh. I know who you are. You've been on the news," Riker said. He pointed to Chase then Bree, saying, "Their father's been after you."

He smirked at the super genius and the speedster. "Yes. _Their father_ has been after me," he confirmed.

"I'm not interested in teaming up," Roman muttered.

"Teaming up? I think you have the wrong idea." He dusted the snow off his suit. "I'm here in behalf of somebody. She wanted me to send you a message."

"A message?" Riker repeated.

He nodded. He pulled out two slender, identical items from his jacket pocket. "For her husband, Absolute Zero," he said. "Catch."

The small, sharp stones was thrown towards them in such a high velocity that they didn't have time to react. Riker was hit first then Roman. The items lodged themselves deeper into the brothers' arms then did their work.

The two yelled out in absolute agony. They fell to their knees, clutching their shoulders to stop the pain from spreading. However, it only continued on and on until it had become unbearable. Their brains shutting their bodies down, Roman then Riker passed out on the muddy cement. As they did, the members of the superhero team previously held hostage up in the air were released, dropping down to the earth unceremoniously.

Uninterested in that last consequence, he took note of how the younger of the brothers held on longer than the other. He was right, and the others were wrong: Riker _was_ stronger than Roman.

As the team struggled to get back up, he walked over to Skylar then knelt down beside her. He noted how pale she looked under the lampposts. Her lips had lost their typical rouge. She also shivered uncontrollably. It was obvious she fought to stay awake.

He took off his jacket then draped it around her. He gently lifted her chin towards him so she could see him and then smiled, communicating to her that everything was okay and that she was safe now.

Confusion glazed her eyes, but somewhere within he saw a spark that told him she understood.

"You saved us," Chase said, his anger and frustration over everything that happened to their family the past few years evident in his voice. "Why?"

He got up to his feet then faced them. From Chase's and Bree's faces, he could tell that they blamed him. They were also contemplating about attacking him. That, he only smirked at. "I'm not here to help you," he said.

Upon cue, the four went up on the air again, pressed against the wall of a maintenance room by a magnetic force.

"Absolute Zero's wife asked that I stop these two," he corrected the super genius. "Finding out that the love of her life died because of them had destroyed her. She said she doesn't want anyone to feel the way she and her children feel ever again. She and a few other superheroes who I will not name are the reasons why I'm here."

"So that's what you are now? A mercenary for hire?" the speedster screeched.

He thought about that. "No. I rarely do any hands-on work nowadays. The people who hire me usually have people for that," he responded. "I just wanted to do this one my own, so I can tell my client honestly that the job is done and that I personally saw to it that it got done."

"What did you do to them?" asked the pyrokinetic of the team.

He glanced at the brothers. " _I'm_ not doing anything. The little flints of Gray Antelese are," he said.

"Gray Antelese? What, what is that?"

"All you need to know is that Roman and Riker won't cause any more trouble. I imagine it'd be hard to do when they don't have any powers at all," he said. He nodded at Skylar. "Please take good care of her. We don't want another superhero to die on us again, now, do we?"

"You may think you're a good person, but you're not," said Bree, stopping him in his tracks. Tears of anger brimmed in her eyes. "You think you're making a difference by doing things like this, but the truth is you ruin lives, too. You destroyed our family. You destroyed all the good things going for us just because you felt like it. You're so selfish."

He looked up at her face searchingly. "I didn't ruin anything that wasn't already ruined," he told her honestly. "I don't do the things I do out of, what do you think it is – revenge? I don't have any grudge against you or our family. That job at the anniversary dinner, the one that I have a feeling you're talking about? I didn't do that for me. My employer requested that I do it, and I happen to agree with their reasons why I should."

"You agreed because it would bring us down," claimed the super genius.

"I agreed because of two things: that design was mine, and manufacturing it behind my employer's back without telling them is not fair," he said. Then, he added, "If it makes you feel better, half of the people in that room actually knew about that whole Astral Tech situation even before that night. They just pretended they didn't because it's easier to make the CEO and the Vice President the scapegoats. If you want, I could get them all to admit that. That'll take the heat off of your dad and uncle."

The super genius glared at him, but it was obvious that it was charged with hurt feelings. "How much were you paid to betray your own family?" he asked.

"Betray my own family? None, 'cause I wouldn't've accepted anything that would hurt the people who care about me. Now, how much did I get paid to fire a warning shot at a company who almost made a bad choice, well – that's a topic I don't feel comfortable discussing." He shrugged. "You've worked before. You know how it is. You don't ever discuss with anyone how much you get paid.

"By the way, as far as being selfish, I hope you didn't think I don't know what you've been up to. That's not nice, you know. You shouldn't use your friends as your own hitmen," he told the siblings before glancing pointedly at Kaz then Oliver.

The two doctor-turned-superheroes had suspicions about their teammates, he knew, and they deserved that hint of confirmation.

"A word of advice," he said to the super genius team leader, "You've got a great team going on here. Don't ruin it by going after someone less important like me. I've let go of everything that's happened. None of you have any more control over me. Let go of what you think I've done. If you hate me so much, then don't give me that much power over your lives. Do it while you still can."

He didn't wait for their response; he wasn't interested. He turned around, glanced at the young Calderian, and, when he was sure she would be all right, descended back the stairs of the abandoned building.


	4. Chapter 4

"I told you, curiosity is a very dangerous thing."

The springtime air in Sicily still bore the same frosty chill from the winter that had just left. Certain parts of the world still had a long way to go from having a nice weather, but most were content with this. It didn't seem so bad even if the flowers may yet have a few weeks to bloom.

The view from the top of the hill was breathtaking. The landscape ahead was structured with houses and buildings, with people and noise as the day matured to its busiest hour. It was full of life. Everything was alive and satisfying.

That was why he chose it as a place for them to talk.

Skylar, caught, approached him cautiously. "You knew I was here?" she asked.

He glanced then smiled at her. "I always know when you're around," he said, leaning back on the bench.

"It took a very long time to find you," she said.

"Months. I know," he said. "I wasn't trying to be found."

"Well, I just did."

The smile on his lips increased minutely. "It's because I let you." He then sincerely asked, "Are you feeling better now? You didn't seem like you were in such a good shape the last time we saw each other."

"I'm fine."

"And my jacket?"

"We destroyed it."

He grinned. "Was it a ceremonial destruction at least?"

"The Davenports blew it to smithereens."

He laughed. "Did they sweep it for any clues on where they can find me?"

"Probably. It was gone for a few nights."

"Did you check if there was anything in the pockets before it vanished?"

She said nothing, but he knew she did. "They've been trying to figure out what exactly Gray Antelese is," she said instead

"Have they had any success?"

"No. Mr. Davenport said there are only traces left in Roman's and Riker's bloodstreams, and it's not enough to identify what it is. The mineral melts quickly after it absorbs energy. I have a feeling you knew that."

"Of course."

"Why are you so bent on making their lives miserable?" she demanded, trudging up to his side of the bench.

"There was another sliver of Gray Antelese in the jacket. I left it there for you so no one can hurt you again," he said instead, lifting his eyes up to meet hers. "Did you keep it?"

"That's not what I'm asking."

"I didn't think I needed to answer. What you assume? It's not true," he said. "I'm living my life the way I see I should. I'm not the one bent on making their lives miserable. I'm not the one who spends millions yearly on a useless manhunt, I'm not the one who sits and sulks about a natural consequence. _They're_ the ones who are making their own lives miserable."

"It's not like you had nothing to do with that."

"Hm. The dinner, yeah, sure. I'll take some responsibility in that. As far as the rest…" He shook his head. "I don't believe I did anything."

"You've caused the family so much trouble. Since the moment you left, for three whole years, they've been looking for you," she defended.

"I didn't leave, your Highness. They threw me out."

"It's because you were sick."

He smiled at that, warmly and sincerely. "I think you're the only one who understands what really happened," he told her.

"They understood, too," she said but sounded so unsure. "That's why they found the best facility for you."

"If Kaz or Oliver or any other people you treat like family got sick, what would you have done?"

She hesitated, knowing where he was leading her. Still, she answered, "I would've found out what made them sick. I would've taken care of them."

"Yet, the people who you claim cares about me haven't found out why I got sick. They paid other people to take care of me," he said. He sighed, turning his eyes back to the city. "Why are they looking for me?"

"Because you're dangerous," she responded, the fire within her rekindled.

"Dangerous to whom, exactly? I've never hurt any innocent people." Again, nothing; she knew he was right. He asked the second time, "Why are they looking for me?"

"Because they're worried."

"Do you know what they're really worried about? It's not my well-being, I can assure you that – although my mom is probably an exception." He answered, "What really bothers them is the fact that I did something they didn't expect. They don't know that's why, but I do. They had expectations for each of the kids. They had this set future in mind of how things are gonna work out. I didn't follow, and that bothered them."

"What were they expecting of you?" she asked, the tone of her voice notably softer.

He glanced up at her. "Basically the same thing others expect when they see a man like me," he said. He stood, facing her. "Why are you here, Skylar Storm, with me, when you could be protecting your city? You won't discover anything of importance. You won't find a psychopath who's willing to do anything to rule the world or a superhero who's misunderstood. Why are you wasting so much time?"

There was a certain gentleness and vulnerability in her deep irises as she stared at him. She gazed at him searchingly, in a way that unintentionally dared him to be as weak as she. Her ethereal features had become more mesmerizing under the Sicilian sun. Her beauty drew out a special kind of smile from him.

All too soon, however, the moment ended. Behind her eyes flickered an intent, the one that was part of the reason why she came there in the first place, and it turned his admiration to a ghost of disappointment and disillusionment. "Why do you always treat me like I'm special?" she asked.

It became evident to him that sense of obligation and honest curiosity warred within her. That gave him hope. "Because you are," he admitted, encouraging the latter of the two sides.

The war only continued to rage.

Though it disheartened him that she couldn't choose him, he said, "Did you know that I had a huge crush on you when I was fourteen? I thought you looked beautiful in the comics. Of course, I knew that all women in your planet look like you. But you had always been different. Will always be. You'll always be special to me."

He stepped closer to her, their proximity dangerous. He smiled. "I know why you're here," he said. "I know what you have to do. It's all right if you choose to do it, but just make sure it's because you want to. Showing affection shouldn't be out of obligation. You're worth far too much for that."

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, drawing closer to him.

"I'm not," he muttered before her lips met his.

The kiss jolted his heart with an incredible voltage that made him alive. It had been everything he had expected and not. Her nearness and the affinity she actually felt for him were intoxicating. He kissed her back, cautiously but also honestly.

When they pulled apart, he smiled at her, noting how spectacular she looked that close. She, on the other hand, gazed at him in fear, in relief and uncertainty.

He knew why. That kiss was supposed to paralyze him. It was supposed to be the means to which the Davenports could finally be saved from their biggest grief.

Only their biggest grief had immunity to their trap. Only their trap had been discovered a long time ago.

Now, the only one left dying was the Skylar Storm they once knew.

 **. . .**

It took a while before it happened, but he didn't mind. He was patient, and it was best if she was sure.

He didn't get a chance to watch it unravel, but he did hear about it through word of mouth. After the Calderian warrior came home from Italy, things began to change. She had become secretive, reserved. She wasn't as involved in their new missions as much as she was before. She did things perfunctorily. She hadn't lost her interest in people, but she had remarkably lost interest in the team.

She obviously still cared about her two longtime friends. After all, they had been through so many things together. As far as the rest…

They had become so worried about her, and rightfully so. Considerable changes like that was nothing to ignore after all. They had tried to talk her out of that strange and troubling mood. They even blamed _him_ for it, accusing him of brainwashing her, stacking upon him all these wild and false allegations just so she would change her mind.

Meanwhile, they had no idea how much the things they said discredited her, insulting her own ability to think for herself. She said nothing, but the suspicion she had that she didn't belong with them anymore grew stronger and stronger until it had become a resolution.

He told her the afternoon they met that if she ever decided to choose him, she would know where to look for him. However, she had to be absolute that she really, truly wanted and needed to be with him, because once they were together, he would do whatever he could to convince her to stay.

Seeing her waiting for him one morning came as a pleasant surprise. He had just finished a brief meeting with a client's assistant. When he turned around, she was there, waiting at a table for him at the restaurant across the street in her glasses and the prettiest summer dress he had ever seen. "Why are you here, Miss Valentine?" he asked her with a smile after coming up to her.

She returned the expression. "I was told that there's an argument I need to hear about why I may want to stay," she said.

"Do you want to?"

"I think so."

He nodded. "Breakfast?"

She grinned. "I already got us a table."

"No, not here. Paris."

The grin on her face diminished, only to be replaced with a warm, dazzling smile. "Okay," she said.

He held out a hand to her. She took it, then grabbed the backpack containing the very few personal belongings she chose to take. She joined him after walking around the table and out of the small, decorative fence that divided them.

Then, down the scenic, cobblestone road, they walked together hand and hand.


	5. Chapter 5

Things had gone so well between them for the next year that he neglected to remember the one person who was the most negatively affected by it. A detective who had consulted with him had been the one who had indirectly brought it up to his attention. The private eye told him that a fellow about his age, 'one of those superhero kids they always have up on the news,' had been asking around for information on him. The twenty-two year old neared his height, had dark brown hair, blue eyes, 'real smart but looks very miserable.'

The subject in question had also been asking around for the extraterrestrial superheroine.

He asked the detective then, as a favor, to tell the searcher to meet him at a specific location. Just him, at that time he set. If he brought any backup, then that would mean he didn't really want to talk.

The superhero came, alone, looking as distressed and aged as the private eye said he appeared.

After exchanging a brief greeting, he told him that he'd like for them to go somewhere more private, a place he trusted him to be in. His old friend, though unsure, consented. He transported both of them there.

He beamed with pride as his guest's eyes wandered around the grand, picturesque beach house. "Would you like to have anything to drink?" he asked him.

"Where are we?" Oliver asked, glancing at the sunny view of the ocean outside.

"My home," he said. "Isn't it nice?"

"You bought this?"

"Built it. It took a while to bring in all the things I need, especially since I can't let anyone just come here and know of it. Once I had everything, though, well – having super speed helped."

"Where exactly are we?"

"In one of the very few unchartered parts of the planet," he replied.

Oliver hesitated to ask his next question; he didn't know if he wanted the answer. Still, he managed, "Does – does Skylar live here?"

"Are you asking if we're living together?" The superhero fought to keep his gaze steady. He admired that determination. "No," he answered. "We're not. She lives at the Sanctuary, one of the bases we built. It's easier for her to get to the people she needs to help from there."

"No one had seen her for the past two months. Is that where she is now?"

"No. She's taking a vacation in Caldera. She said she missed her brothers and sisters, so I told her to go and spend some time with her family. I've been taking over the Sanctuary."

"People have reported seeing a new superhero in disaster scenes."

"It's only temporary," he assured him. "I'm visiting Caldera for a few days next week. I can tell Skylar to meet with you when we get back, if you'd like."

Oliver didn't respond.

Finally understanding the reason for the weary hero's search for him, he said, "There are some things, Oliver, that's just not worth asking. You're wondering why she chose to leave, how she ended up with me. The answer to that would cost you the respect and the trust you have for your friends and teammates. Just leave it buried, 'cause you may not like what you'd find if you keep digging."

"I already lost the girl I love to a guy I never thought would take her away from me. What could be worse?"

"It's better if you didn't know."

The hero stared at him. "You used to be a really good person," Oliver said.

He smiled. "What does being a good person mean to you?"

"Look, I get it," Oliver pressed onward. "I get why you're angry. I've never met my father, and my mother chose an alien rock over me. My best friend doesn't even think much of me. You and I had always been alike in those ways and many others. I get how that could make you bitter and angry and want to settle scores. But you shouldn't let it change you. You're a good guy, Leo, and no matter what they say I believe you still have a good heart."

The smile on his face grew. "You've always been a good man, Oliver. You know, you're one of the very few people I think very highly of. There are not a lot like you around anymore," he told his old friend. "But we both know that the world looks different from our vantage point now. It's not the same as when we were kids, where being good or being evil is as clear as picking red or picking blue."

"Heroes are not always heroes, and villains are not always villains," Oliver conceded. "I know."

He nodded. "But just knowing isn't enough, is it," he said. "You came to _understand_."

The look the superhero shot him proved sufficient.

"If you have a few more minutes." He then nodded towards the elevator hidden in the rear side of the wide room.

They descended to the small laboratory underground. When the doors opened, he headed straight to the sleek wall near the widescreen, and then placed his hand on a compartment. From there he drew out two thick metallic rings, one of which he tossed toward his visitor.

"What is this?" Oliver asked.

"Just a side project I've been working on for a while," he replied, pulling the one he had down on his head. "I really liked the idea. Have you seen _Pacific Rim_?"

"Yeah?"

"Same concept." Seeing the wary and doubtful expression on the hero's face, he said, "Do you still believe I have a good heart?"

Oliver turned his eyes from him to the ring. After taking a deep breath, he slipped it on.

"It's set to stop the moment my first client approached me. I'm sure you understand why," he said. Then, somberly he said, "You will know things you may not want to know, Oliver. Are you sure you want to go on?"

"If it would help me make sense of everything that's happened, then do it."

He smiled. He hoped the superhero would understand that he was doing it out of trust and respect.

He clicked on the button.

 **. . .**

Looking round about him, the light and joyous sights and sounds of people on that park reminded him of how much time had passed since all of those things happened. At twenty-seven, he was still young, and he had no doubt he would witness more. The world was ever turning, and people were constantly changing. To him, the story was just beginning.

What Oliver saw that day five years ago degraded his trust and respect for his teammates as he was warned. He found out why he lost the one thing, the one _person,_ he loved the most: a mission, given to her in private by the other girl in their team and her father, had set her on that path.

She was to find their 'wayward' family member and capture him by paralyzing him through a kiss. They didn't count on the Calderian's curiosity and capacity for great mercy on the boy she had once been friends with to derail the plan. Before they could realize the error of their design, it was already too late. The beautiful warrior had already switched allegiance, giving mind and heart to the one who promised a surpassing and undying devotion to her.

Blaming them and himself, Oliver left the team three months later. Though he understood to a degree why they did the things they did, Kaz also left.

Last he heard, the pyrokinetic had just been drafted into a league of superheroes. Oliver, on the other hand, had been working side by side with a superheroine the past two years. Cirrus, he believed she was called.

He saw them once, the superhero tandem, and Oliver looked happy. He also appeared very smitten with his fierce but enthusiastic and doting partner-in-crime. (Fiancée now, actually. Another superhero told him about the proposal last weekend.)

That was good. He still held his old friend in high-esteem, and it was great to see him satisfied.

He exhausted a breath. "I will get your husband and your son back to you, Necrosis," he told the villainess, "but you must promise me one thing."

"What is that?"

He smiled at her. "You must move them somewhere safe, where no one could take them again," he said. "I don't like doing the same job twice. You understand."

She nodded.

"Expect a call tomorrow morning. You'll know where they are."

"I will hand you what I can then."

"I accept personal favors," he offered. "One from you would prove valuable one day, I'm sure."

She smirked, appreciative of the understanding he extended to her. "We must look interesting to people. Unstable, untrustworthy. Evil. We probably all look the same to them," she commented after a while.

"Yeah. We probably do."

"Do you regret it?" she asked. "Do you regret everything that happened that led you here?"

A small, sad smile tugged on his lips. "There are people that I still think about," he admitted, "but I can always watch from afar."

"Does it ever get lonely? Being alone?"

"Does it for you?" he tactfully deflected.

"I'm afraid of what I would become if anyone takes away the only people I care about."

"If they only knew," he asked good-naturedly, looking at her.

The villainess returned his smile. She stood up afterward and then headed down the trail, blending in with the crowd that remained clueless of the terror that walked among them.

He leaned back on the bench to watch the scene before him a little longer. More colorful balloons filled the park as families with their children came in. It looked so serene, especially with the green leaves rustling with the wind. Looking up had moved him to glimpse the buildings surrounding them. They were tall, proud, and ringing with voices and sighs of those wishing they were outside.

If he focused enough, not too far from where he sat was the Davenport Industries tower. The building buzzed with activity and enthusiasm today. The CEO and his family had come to visit. The founder was also there for an important reason: to appoint his youngest son, who was now of age, to manage that branch.

He smiled. He was glad for them. He was happy for the super genius.

His phone suddenly vibrated. _The moon looks beautiful tonight,_ texted the sender. _Any chance you'll see it with me?_

He caught a glimpse of the flower vendor from across the street. _I'd rather look at something more beautiful._

 _Which is…_

 _You,_ he responded, getting up from his seat. _Stay with me?_

 _I had vowed to._

 _You're incredible,_ he told his wife. He and the Calderian beauty had only been married for three years, but they had become each other's strength and weakness. It was hazardous, but it couldn't be helped. The other was all that they had. Naturally, they had become inseparable and nearly dependent on each other.

He took one last glance at this side of the world. Summer still played joyfully, and people free from the grasp of compulsion roamed about with smiles on their faces. Cars sped past, sirens wailed. The beginning of the inaugural meeting began. All of these happened successively and simultaneously, life over life over life happening altogether.

But he longed for the peace and the silence, the dark and the exclusion of his home. For the smile of the woman he adored.

So, after picking out a bundle of Stargazers for her, he went. He vanished among the busy crowd, leaving the music of a never-ending song.

* * *

 **END.**

* * *

 _Many thanks to Susz, EmeraldTulip, and Asori for the reviews! I really appreciate it. :)_


End file.
